Sew Spamano
by czaplabtheswagmonster
Summary: It's just a damn pincushion! This shouldn't be so difficult! SPAMANO, featuring Antonio's more derpalicious side. Tw for an offensive pedophilia joke.


**A/N: This is the standard pincushion design, I swear to god. I've had mine since I was like three. Google Images it.**

Antonio hummed happily as he skipped through his house. It was a beautiful June evening, and he had just returned from tending to the tomatoes outside. He knew Lovino had gone for a _siesta _on the living room sofa, and was hoping that he could watch his little _tomate_ sleep. (This was perfectly okay in Spain's book; he had already established himself as a creeper when he came out as pedophilic.)

However, as he turned into the living room, he instead beheld Lovino hunched over the desk, looking terribly distressed. The small Italian's teeth were worrying his lip, a rather adorable frown creasing his brow. Antonio hurried towards the desk, immediately shifting to Protective Mode. "Lovi, Lovi, what's wrong? I can kill them~" A rather feral glow appeared in his green eyes.

"I-it's nothing…" Lovino's tone indicated that it clearly was _not_ nothing. Up closer, Antonio realized that Lovino was, in fact, sewing. He'd found a sewing machine somewhere, and a swath of tomato-printed fabric was resting on the desk, along with scissors, the pattern for what appeared to be boxer shorts, and a round red object that, upon closer inspection, was a tomato-shaped pincushion.

"Ah, Lovi, don't worry about sewing~! You don't need to wear underwear!" Antonio offered a hopeful smile, bending down to his boyfriend's level. "You don't have to wear anything~! I wouldn't mind~!"

He was rewarded for his efforts with a thwack to the head. "I…I…" Lovi gave up on speaking and instead just held out the pincushion, weakly glaring up at the other.

Antonio took it, turning the round red object around in his hands a few times and fingering the green 'leaves' on the top' before looking back to Lovino in confusion. "Lovi, it's cute~ What's wrong?"

Lovino's glare increased in voltage to its normal standards. "I-I-I need something f-f-for pins–" he gestured to the pins, which were scattered all around the desktop – "b-b-but i-it looks l-l-like a tomato a-a-and I can't just _stab_ one of our ch-ch-children–"

Antonio tactfully decided not to mention that they both chopped up, cooked, and devoured their 'children' on a regular basis. Instead, he opted to stroke his _tomate_'s hair comfortingly. "Lovi, it's okay, it's not actually a tomato~! See, it's made of cotton and stuffing, it's okay~!"

"B-b-but it looks so m-much like them…" Lovino choked out, angrily swiping at his eyes when he realized they were watery. "I c-can't do it!"

"Shh, Lovi, it's okay, you don't have to use the tomato as a pincushion!" Antonio soothed him. "Here, you can use me instead!" He held out his arm happily, only to be met with a headbutt to the chest. Ah, just like old times.

"B-b-bastard! I d-d-don't want to s-s-stab you!" Lovino's face had reached a rather worrisome shade of red, both from the stress of the pincushion dilemma and Antonio's blithe offer of mutilation. "I-I-I can deal with this! It's just a pincushion! I sh-sh-should be able to g-g-get over it–" Despite our favorite tsundere's best efforts, a sob managed to escape his throat. Antonio stared at his boyfriend for a moment more before abruptly bolting from the room.

Lovino gaped in shock before realizing what this meant. Antonio clearly could not deal with his drama and overreaction. He was going to go find someone else, someone better for him – someone like Veneziano, that little asshole. (Well, a rather large asshole, if the potato bastard had gotten that far and it's true what they say about German men.) Antonio deserved that, deserved someone better…

Rapidly descending into an angsty haze, Lovino managed to drag himself to the couch and paw among the cushions – fucking _cushions_, cushions got him into this mess – for the remote. The only comfort was his precious soap operas…

ONE HOUR LATER~

The door slammed shut, and a certain Spanish voice rang through the house. "Lovi~!" Footsteps quickly tapped towards the living room, where Lovino was still on the sofa, eyes fixed on the television. More tears sprang to his eyes. Why did Maria have to die? Anyone but Maria! Now Enrique would have to marry Isabella! The horror!

"Lovi?" Antonio had paused in the doorway, a strangely shaped object in his hand. Lovino jolted up as its shape registered. Was that a–?

"Lovi, I got you another pincushion~" He offered the object. Oh, thank goodness, it was only a wurst.

…

A _wurst-shaped_ pincushion?

People truly will buy anything…

"Antonio…where did you get that?" Lovi sat up and took the object, handling it as though it were about to attack him.

"I ran to Germany~! There was this little sewing shop with a very nice lady at it~! I didn't have any money, but I smiled a lot and she gave it to me for my hand sanitizer bottle~"

Lovino stared, too stunned to be jealous of the German clerkette. "You ran to Germany?"

"Sí!" Antonio beamed. "Do you like it~?"

"Th-that's hundreds of kilometres! That's not possible!" Lovino, in utter confusion, resorted to smacking his boyfriend on the shoulder (not being able to reach any higher).

Antonio shrugged contentedly. "I'm magic~"

Lovino gaped at the pincushion and the Spaniard in front of him (who hadn't even broken a sweat – the Spaniard, I mean, not the pincushion) for a moment longer, before giving up on the entire matter. Instead, he simply accepted the wurst, as well as the fact that his boyfriend was less than normal.

"Th-th-thanks, Antonio," he mumbled, flushing bright red as a form of address other than 'bastard' and 'Spain' left his lips. He was met with an even more blinding grin and a hug. As Antonio's voice filled the air with coos and squigglies, Lovino set about happily stabbing the wurst, and all was well with the world.

THE END.

**MY LITTLE PINCUSHION: ANTONIO IS MAGIC~**

**Guys, don't laugh at Spain coming out as pedophilic, okay? Sexual orientation is something you're born with. Would you be brave enough to wear the Pedobear bracelets? Would you march in the ISSB (I Screw Small Boys) parades? Would you drive a windowless white van, knowing that people would stare and throw things? He has the strength to be who he is and take shit for it, you should respect him for that.**

**Translations:**

**siesta = nap**

**tomate = Romano**

**Yes, this resulted from me sewing. Gawds, I just wanted a pair of flame-printed boxer shorts and I ended up with this monster. On the bright side, I did eventually finish the boxer shorts. They're awesome.**

**Review? :3**


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